Chapter
One
There was just something about the smell of coffee that was inviting. It was like a fragrant lie to those who found it bitter; the scent was sweet, warm, and welcoming.
It filled the shop constantly from all the steaming-hot cups being supplied to those who were caffeine dependent or who had soulless, tired eyes. With each drink came the melody of clinking from cups landing on plates and spoons tapping against glass or ceramic rims as patrons swirled their roasted bean water.
Over the speakers, a randomised playlist produced a cappella remixes of Skylar’s favourite bands. Most wouldn’t notice they were renditions of heavy metal songs, not with their gentle notes and beautiful, lyrical displays of wonderment that sang like emotional angels in one’s ears.
The music was quiet, designed to hide the bustling noise of chatter, footsteps, and the cars outside, without being overbearing and distracting for those lost to the pages of a book.
Fake vines on the wall to her left hid the black bumpy cement, and the green RBG lights along the ceiling trim gave it a more mystical vibe. There were more potted plants littered around the café, each one fake, as Skylar wouldn’t let living ones suffer under her whims of never remembering to water the fuckingthings.
Next to the vines was a hallway that led to the bathroom, a small courtyard for customers to sit in the sun, a walk-in storage cupboard, and a small kitchen that provided food all day. The last one was Hank’s dominion, and it wasn’t safe for other employees unless they wanted a good metaphorical spanking. And not the fun kind.
The wall behind her was painted with a dark, smoky background to offset the images of floating books sparkling with magic frozen in motion. At the bottom, along a counter filled with squirt bottles of different flavourings and containers of sugar, napkins, cups, and spoons, stacks of books had been painted with glass tubes, beakers, and other alchemy-related depictions. Above all of this was a long sign that showed everything they had for sale, ranging from coffee, tea, smoothies, and food.
To her right, a large window allowed in muted light with the building’s awning blocking out the sun most hours of the day. The seating up against it was often people’s favourite place to read or people watch.
Then finally, and most importantly, before her on the other side of the café were shelves upon shelves of books – each one hand-picked by Skylar and anyone who worked with her.
The entire café was monitored by security cameras, all with audio recording, which ensured anyone who tried to steal a book was caught, and any abuse was handled immediately. All employees stepped in to protect patrons who simply wanted to be left alone, and they were quick to make unruly people leave.
It was a simple, quiet environment.
It was a place for readers to pick a book of their own choice or pick the week’s top reads selected by the employees. And it was also a regular meet-up spot for those who usually had anisolated hobby. Many had made friends here by gushing over similar tastes in books, often bringing their own literature to read around like-minded individuals.
It didn’t matter if their tastes were all different, although Skylar preferred stories of the alien, monster, and paranormal smutty variety.
The front door opened, and the busy street of Newtown, a suburb within Sydney, Australia, blared boisterously. The tranquillity was stolen momentarily when some rude asshat beeped their horn right next to the door at the worst time possible, causing many patrons to lift their heads with annoyed frowns.
Wiping down the coffee machine’s milk-frothing nozzle with a damp cloth, Skylar noted the gentleman in a suit as he approached the counter. He was attractive, but his overall vibe said he had a superiority complex and an overly confident stride.
“What can I get you?” Kaylee greeted in a bored, professional, customer service voice, flicking her long ponytail over her shoulder.
Hidden behind her lavender apron, her pink skinny jeans were an affront to any goth’s eyes, and her cropped white shirt showed off her lightly tanned abdomen and navel piercing.
Her face was caked in so much well-applied make-up that she looked ready to walk down a runway aisle like a model. She was pretty enough, tall enough, and skinny enough to work the industry, but was too petulant to have ever tried.
The man who walked in wasn’t a regular, nor used to the vibe, and looked out of place with the grungier, book-nerd aura of the café. He frowned down at Kaylee leaning over the counter, who blinked back at him with deadened brown eyes of disinterest.
He looked to be in his late thirties, with a semi-permanent scowl. His peer down at his watch said he was likely somehigher-up manager or business closer who was on the clock and had just waltzed into the first café he could find.
“I’d like a cappuccino flat white, with two sugars,” he answered, his voice just as pretty as his handsome, chiselled, cleanly shaven face.
Kaylee’s bottom lip fell with disgust as she regarded him down to his polished shoes before flicking her eyes up. She made a show of obnoxiously chewing her spearmint gum, and held his stare.
“You do know those two things are completely different, right? You can’t have a cappuccino and a flat white. One has foam and the other doesn’t. What are you looking for?”
His nose wrinkled on one side as his upper lip curled. “Listen, sweetheart. I’ve been ordering the same drink my entire life. It’s not my fault you can’t put together your two brain cells to make a simple coffee.”
Skylar winced. He’d called her a pet name and questioned her intelligence. She could already foresee what was about to happen.
“Sweetheart?” Kaylee scoffed, lifting her free hand to wiggle her fingers at his outfit. “I wouldn’t be your sweetheart even if you gave me your fake Rolex and hundred-dollar suit that isn’t even tailored to your body.” Then she stood up straight to tower over his six-foot frame with her six-foot-two height. “I’m guessing all your coffees are different and you complain every time. Do you want foam with a sprinkle of chocolate, or do you want a flat white?”
“You can’t speak to me like that,” he snapped out, looking down at his ‘Rolex’ for the time before covering it with a hand while looking off awkwardly. “Where’s your manager?”
How Kaylee had figured that out by just looking at him, Skylar didn’t know, but it had to be an assumption based on his attire.Ididn’t even see what brand his watch was.Then again, that was Kaylee – she had a good eye for those with money.
